


mamihlapinatapei

by mikasas



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikasas/pseuds/mikasas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the look between two people in which each loves the other, but both are too afraid to make the first move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mamihlapinatapei

**Author's Note:**

> also on [tumblr](http://inquisitoaster.tumblr.com/post/107620503243/mamihlapinatapei-merribela).

“This is agonizing to watch.”

Hawke paused in stacking her winnings and followed Varric’s exasperated stare to Isabela, who was throwing the full force of her charm at a woman standing at the Hanged Man’s bar. “What?” she asked, frowning. “She’s just looking for some fun.” Hawke jerked her head towards Fenris, passed out and drooling on his cards. “Her go-to’s out cold.”

Varric shook his head. “No, I mean—” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Look at Daisy.”

Merrill, who had disappeared some ten minutes prior with a cheerful _I’ll get the next round!_ despite the majority of their party being unconscious or gone — about the same time that Isabela had swaggered off to find someone to bed, Hawke realized — was standing a respectful few seats away from the pirate and her prey with a look on her face like someone had just kicked her puppy.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Hawke pushed her winnings to the side, sending her neat stacks of coins cascading across the table, and rested her chin in her hands, focusing on Merrill. “I mean, does ‘Bela know?”

“Probably. I love Daisy dearly, but she’s about as subtle as—well, as you’re being right now.” Varric leaned over to flick Hawke in the head. “Quit staring, will you?”

“Sorry! I just—“ Hawke frowned, chewed her lip. “You’re right, though. There’s no way ‘Bela doesn’t know. Why hasn’t she said anything, you know, let her down gently?”

"Maybe she doesn’t want to let her down at all."

Hawke snorted. “Yeah, right, okay. Nothing against Merrill, Merrill could absolutely land someone like ‘Bela, but ‘Bela doesn’t do romantic, _feelings_ -y stuff—” She was abruptly cut off by Varric shushing her and inclining his head towards the bar.

The barkeep had finally come around with the drinks, four of them — three for Hawke, Varric, and Merrill, and one for Isabela, Hawke guessed, in case she struck out— _oh, Merrill_ —and Merrill picked them up, two in each hand, with a smile and a thank you, and as she turned away from the bar she cast one last glance at Isabela—and she froze. Varric nudged Hawke in the ribs and she turned from Merrill to ‘Bela, who was looking back at Merrill with a smile softer and more genuine than anything Hawke had ever seen, and for a moment it seemed as if the whole tavern stopped to take a breath — until Isabela’s companion reclaimed her attention and ‘Bela turned away, and Merrill picked her way back to Varric’s table with slumped shoulders and that kicked-puppy look.

"Oh," Hawke said.

"Yeah."


End file.
